


Cosmic

by Ismygreenyourgreentoo



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coincidences, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismygreenyourgreentoo/pseuds/Ismygreenyourgreentoo
Summary: Link keeps seeing the same man, over and over in innocuous places, and he starts to wonder if it really is a coincidence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time publishing on Ao3! This story came in a burst of inspiration! Please write a review and let me know what you think and if you want to read more!

> They started to see each other everywhere, and he started to wonder if it was really a coincidence.

The first time was in The Nook, a small but charming coffee house with dark wooden floors and a gas fireplace that made the whole place hot like a bath but no less comforting. Art hung from every wall, and every piece was marked with a price tag, although he doubted anyone would ever feel the impulse to buy any of it. People were crowded in there, stuffed in some amalgamation of a line. The Nook had opened only two days prior, and for the first week every drink was half price. It had piqued his curiosity, so he found himself leaving early for work, to stand in the crowded line.

The man was a few people ahead, and it was impossible not to lock eyes on him. He was easily the tallest person in the room, and his soft golden hair was quaffed another two inches upwards, making him a rather overwhelming figure. He was also handsome, but in an unexpected way. His height did not make him gangly or awkward, but only emphasized the intimidating yet appealing features of his stone-grey eyes and his well trimmed beard.

Link didn't think much of it the first time, as the noisy crowd and hurried staffed took away most of his attention. Once the man had his own drink, he was out the door. Their eyes met for a heartbeat, but Link didn't think about him for the rest of the day.

The second time, he was in a supermarket. Link had little time but an insatiable craving for peanut butter, so he found himself in a Whole Foods on his lunch break. When he saw the man he stopped, and thought carefully about where he had seen him before. This time he was standing, hands in his pockets, eyes lazily combing through bottles of wine. Link watched him do this, admiring the fact that, even alone, the man still managed to stand out. He had a simple yet unique sense of style, long blue jeans and a black T-shirt, which was underneath a pastel pink velvet baseball jacket. He made his pick of wine, a thirty dollar Merlot, and as he walked away from the shelf, their eyes met inadvertently. They both offered a polite smile before looking away, and moving on.

As Link checked out, he looked around at the other cashier stations, but the man had probably left. Later that day he would show up in his thoughts, like the tune of a song he couldn't fully remember.

The third time was in a pool house called Q’s, the following Friday. He was with a few work friends, two men and two women who seemed intent on his inclusion in their circle. He liked them all well enough, but they couldn't seem to fall out of the trap of constantly talking about work. He found it boring to engage sometimes, but his extroverted nature could not deny the temptation of camaraderie.

The man caught his attention as soon as he walked in; he was arched down, a look of intense concentration in his eyes, the next split second sinking a striped ball into the pocket. He leapt at this, whooped, and pumped his fist in the air. The action was so over the top that a wide smile involuntarily spread on Link’s face.

“You see that guy?” he mumbled to his co-worker, a short humble guy named Greg, as they staked their claim on a table at the far edge of the room.

“What guy?” Greg asked, already analyzing the drink menu. Link pointed subtly. “The guy with the Clippers hat? What about him?”

“Nothing. He's just freakishly tall isn't he?”

“I guess so.”

Link frowned, and decided not to point out that he had run into this man a few times this week. He was afraid they would think he was strange for noticing a thing like that.

As the games and the drinks and the night aged, he found himself glancing more and more at the man's table. Part of it was because the man was vocal, in both his victories and his defeats, which was amusing to watch. Eventually he sunk a winning shot, and loudly exclaimed “Eat it!” to his party of drunk friends. It was at this moment that the two met eyes for the third time. There was a flicker there, possibly because he recognized Link, but more likely because he realized how embarrassing his outburst had been through the eyes of a stranger. It was as if they were thinking the exact same thing, because in the same instance, both men burst into laughter.

They shared the moment for only a few seconds later, the tall man red in the face but grinning wildly at having made someone across the room laugh. They looked away, and Link felt himself fighting an urge to look back. It was a fun moment, a human experience between perfect strangers, but he found himself wanting to experience again, right that instant, but he knew the connection was only a blip in time. If the man caught him staring over there again, it may begin to seem weird. For the rest of the night, he made a point to keep his eyes away. That being said, his mind couldn't think of anything else.

The fourth time was even less expected. Link worked as an engineer for IBM, one of the biggest companies in the valley. Occasionally they would host conferences and seminars, inviting smaller firms and larger partners to collaborate and network. Link always liked these, because the only work he had to do was listen to other engineers share their ideas all day, and since he rarely felt like the ideas were any good, he could zone out and spend the day thinking about how he could swing the whole thing into a joke bit. Every month or so a club near his house did an open mic night, and he used it to test his experimental stand-up. These boring conferences provided an unexpected amount of comedic fodder.

Before the seminars began, all of the attendees would gather in a conference room, with his group sitting on the staggered seats on the main stage. His company liked to seem important, so they insisted their entire staff be front and center rather than part of the audience.

His boss was giving the keynote, which was as boring as he would have expected. Instead of listening, he just looked up and down at the audience, making note of who looked engaged and who had glazed over eyes. It was when his gaze wandered over to the section where Black & Veatch were sitting, that the two met eyes once again.

This time they both undoubtedly showed signs of recognition. The other man, wearing a black polo with what Link assumed to be unflattering khakis, stared thoughtfully before tilting his head and slyly waving his hand.

Link didn't return the wave, but he did screw up his mouth and raise one eyebrow, as if to say, _This is a bit weird._ The other man shrugged, and Link returned it before looking back at the speaker.

He tried hard to concentrate on the words, but it took all his will power not to look back into the sea of black polo. At one point the speaker made a joke so lame, it would have earned groans if so many people at the conference didn't want her approval. Usually Link would exchange glances with a co-worker at this, but instead he instinctively turned his head towards the stranger. The second their eyes met they both laughed.

When the seminars began, Link found himself spending the first five minutes of each class looking for the man from Black & Veatch. Each time, he was disappointed, and each seminar he was completely inattentive. He knew each time they had seen each other had been a coincidence, but he also hadn't been able to communicate non-verbally with a stranger so effectively since… well never. Something was cosmic about it. In a strange way, as he looked through the crowd for someone he’d never met, it felt as if he were really looking for an old friend.

Eventually it was time to go, and Link was in a sour mood. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it seemed as though they were not meant to cross paths again that day. He put on a smile as his friends walked out with him to his car, but inside he felt like a deflated balloon. It was not rational, he knew that, but all the same he felt it.

It was when he was driving out of the parking lot, stuck behind a line waiting to turn left, that he finally saw him again. He was standing on the curb with a collection of identically dressed cohorts, leaning against the building waiting for a ride to show up. He stared with all his might until their eyes met again. After a short lingering moment, the tall man winked, and returned back to his conversation.

Link drove away, his heart beating against his ribs and a smile on his face.


	2. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support so far! There will probably be three or more chapters that follow this, so stay tuned for updates! I greatly appreciate any feedback or criticism, so don't hold back.

A full week passed, and their paths did not cross. Link wondered if the other man was thinking about him too, and secretly hoping to once again meet eyes across the room, at the very least.

 

Before work one day he decided to get up early and grab coffee at the Nook again, telling himself it was not just because he wanted to see the tall stranger.  _ I’m just really craving a mocha,  _ he thought.  _ That’s all.  _

 

When he arrived, only a few other customers were milling about, none of them the one he was looking for. Disheartened but not surprised, he bought a hot mocha with whipped cream, and sat down at small corner table. He had some time to kill before he had to leave. 

 

Every time the door opened, he glanced upwards as discreetly as he could, only to inevitably look back down at the emails on his phone. What would he even do if the man did show up? Would he say anything? Or would that just break the spell?

 

The time came where if he waited much longer, he would be late for work. He considered letting that happen, knowing the worst they could do was fire him. Or maybe that was the best. 

 

But Link was not one to disappoint others. With a slow deliberateness, he packed up his things and threw back the sugary dregs of his coffee. 

 

The door opened once more. 

 

Link froze in place. It was him. 

 

There was no line, so the man did not have to wait to order, and he remained at the counter as the barista disappeared to make his tea. He turned his head towards Link’s table as he waited, in a way so measured and slick that it was highly unlikely the man had not seen Link as he came in. 

 

They shared a smile, and although Link felt hot in the face, he did not hesitate to match the mischievous glint in the other man’s eye. It was clear now that neither of them intended to say anything to the other, but not because they didn't want to. It was because now, a game was afoot, and the first one to break would be the loser.

 

Link broke the gaze, but did not wipe the look from his face, in case the grey eyes followed him out as he left. It was true he wanted to speak to this man, but he also knew that this game was much more fun.

  
  


His new routine was frustrating at first; he was not used to always getting up so early. Not to mention half the time the man would not show up, so it would feel fruitless sometimes. He was quick to forget this frustration on the times he did see him.

 

For the first week they exchanged smiles, nods, and the occasional wink, but that was the extent of their communication. As Link’s body acclimated to his new schedule, and he slowly became friendly with the baristas, he was able to make inferences about the mysterious stranger. He would never come in on Mondays and Tuesdays, and it was only Wednesdays and Thursdays he’d be wearing the black polo and khakis his line of work demanded. It was likely he either worked part-time, or worked odd hours not consistent with Link’s religious nine to five. 

 

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and Link took every free second at work to let his mind wander to the strange competition he had entered himself in. He found himself imagining the scenario when they first spoke to each other, and the things they would say. 

 

On Thursday, no one was in the Nook besides himself and another person whose nose was buried in a wide newspaper. The baristas were chuckling to each other, but were quickly silent as soon as he caught their eye.

 

“Morning Alex. I’ll have the usual.”

 

Like a magician, Alex pulled a drink from the other side of the counter, one size bigger than he usually got.

 

“Here ya go!”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Already paid for.”

 

“What? By who?”

 

With expert timing, the customer with the newspaper loudly turned the page, revealing for a partial second the face of the tall handsome stranger. 

 

“He got here first today,” the other barista, Mike, whispered.

 

“Is that so?” He turned the cup around. On the top in black marker, the baristas had written  _ From Rhett.  _ “Will you tell him I said thank you?”

 

“Why don’t you just--” started Mike, but Alex elbowed him.

 

“We’ll tell him.”

 

As he left, he tried to share another glance with the stranger, but the man seemed determined to stay hidden behind the paper until Link left. The drink felt even hotter on his fingertips as he stepped into the cool morning air, and tested the name on his lips.

 

_ Rhett. _


	3. See You There

 

The next day, he didn’t arrive any earlier than usual, but he was stoked to see that Rhett was nowhere to be seen, not even hidden behind something.

 

“Has he been in yet?” he asked the guy behind the counter, who he was relieved to see was Alex again.

 

“No.” He made no attempt to mask the interest in his voice. It was likely the whole thing was a hot source of gossip for the Nook. “He usually gets a chai tea.”

 

Link nodded and handed him his card.

 

“You want me to write anything?” he asked. He thought for a second, and then something in the display case caught his eye.

 

“No but… throw in one of those cookies too.”

 

He waggled his eyebrows. “The heart shaped one?”

 

Link nodded and felt his face go a little red.

 

“You got it buddy.”

 

He nursed his own drink in his usual seat. For the most part, he had been able to get work done in the wee hours of the morning, but today he was so preoccupied he could only stare with unseeing eyes at the home screen of his Macbook.

 

He had realized recently that Rhett might not be seeing this relationship with the romantic potential that he was. The cookie, which had shiny red icing and eggshell white polka dots, would surely make the signal clear. His hands had started to feel clammy and he was constantly rubbing them on his pants. 

 

Rhett came in, one hand on the door and one in the pocket of his lake-blue jeans. He was wearing a flat-brimmed baseball cap with no logo Link could see. He nodded his head and smirked as he swaggered in, and Link unabashedly met his gaze, letting his blue eyes smolder the best they could. 

 

Rhett didn't act surprised when he wasn't asked to pay for his drink, but his grin became a straight line when Alex handed him the cookie wrapped smoothly in cellophane. He looked as if he were about to ask if it was a mistake, but when it became obvious it wasn't, his long fingers began to gingerly pull the plastic off, taking great care not to crumble the heart within. 

 

When it was finally free, he held it up by two fingers, turned to meet Link's eyes, and took a soft, slow bite.

 

Link was happy he was able to restrain himself from instinctually licking his lips. He leaned on his hand in a dreamy fashion, as Rhett took his things back to his usual table. When he sat down, he mirrored him, staring with a velvet expression. There were some crumbs in his beard. 

 

_ Are we going to talk soon?  _ Link tried to say with his mind.

 

_ You first,  _ Rhett said with a twitch in his thick brow and a flick of his fingers. 

 

_ I don't give in that easy.  _

 

Rhett chuckled and casually returned his attention to a tablet he pulled out of his jacket. Link returned to his business too, knowing the both of them were currently planning how they'd interact next.

 

He expected Rhett to be the next to make a different move, since it was informally his turn. And just as he thought, on the following Thursday, which would soon be known as the day Rhett would always beat him there to pay for the coffee, he was also handed an envelope with his name on it. He looked over at him for confirmation, and Rhett eagerly mimed opening it.

 

Inside was a ticket. Not two tickets, just one, for a variety show at a place downtown called the Brickyard. Not much was written on the ticket, save for the cheap price of twenty-five dollars and the promise of a “Night of Fun and Whimsy.”

 

He smiled at the ticket, and nodded.  _ I can make it,  _ he thought towards his mute companion.

 

_ I guess I'll see you there. _


	4. A Night of Whimsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks SO much for your kind comments! The song in this chapter is really just an original poem by yours truly. Let me know any feedback or criticism you have PLEASE! I have tough skin.

Link, who was a knotted wire of nerves, told his friends at work the next day about the show, throwing them all in a whirl. He had made the mistake of letting a few close female friends in on the situation, and they became more invested in it than they had been in any television show. His male friends tried to act nonchalant about it, but sometimes they would corner him in the break room to ask for updates.

 

“It must be a date. If it isn't a date what else would it be?” Mirriam, the woman who sat across from him, was biting her fingernails. 

 

Link shook his head. “If it's a date we'd have to talk to each other, and I don't think he's backing down for a while.”

 

Greg peeked over his cubicle wall. “I think this is all some elaborate plan to get  _ you  _ to back down. He's going to turn up the charm and turn you into pudding Neal.”

 

Link opened his mouth to protest, but then sighed. “I bet he's able to do it too. I'm not good at sticking to my guns.”

 

“Nonsense,” Mirriam admonished him. “You're about as handsome as they come, and you're an absolute _ fox  _ in your day clothes. Just be confident, and he will be the one who turns to pudding.”

 

Link blushed at this, but she did have a point. If he turned up the charm to eleven, he could potentially gain the upper hand. This all depended on variables he couldn't see. How strong was Rhett's resolve? And what was his plan in the first place?

 

***

 

He showed up that night, feeling a bit self conscious by himself, but riding a tall wave of mystery and excitement. The girl at the door checked his ticket on some fat grey device with an ancient screen on the back. She had to squint her eyes to read it.

 

“You have a reserved seat at table three, at the very front. That sound right?”

 

“Sounds right to me,” he chirped. 

 

The table was set with simple but classy polished silverware, and was already full with chatty strangers who seemed to pay him no mind. He was surprised that he filled the last empty seat, and Rhett was nowhere in sight.

 

Someone had left a note of folded printer paper underneath his plate. It read, in the fresh ink of a blue Sharpie,  _ Drinks and food on me. Just tell them you're a friend of mine. They know what to do.  _ At the bottom, in much smaller letters, it also read,  _ I'll see you at the end of the show. _

 

_ Why the end?  _ he wondered.  _ Why not now? _

 

After ten minutes and an order of Parmesan fries and a vodka soda, the show began. The acts range wildly from acrobats hanging from ribbons flowing from the ceiling like red rivers, and perky teenagers with dogs that could do backflips and jump through hoops. The only thing that didn't vary was the quality. Every act, despite how deceptively simple it may have seemed, was incredible to watch, and few people in the audience tore their eyes away if they could help it. After the second act, Link had stopped looking through the crowds for the tall casinova, and was giving the show his full attention.

 

When the hour was almost up, as well as the show, he began to feel a little worried. Where could he possibly be, only one act away from the show's closing? 

 

It struck him that maybe Rhett was here with someone else, and his invite had been tacked on to another occasion. Maybe it was just the same friends he had seen at Q’s, or maybe even just his mom and dad. Or maybe… a boyfriend? A husband? A wife? 

 

The announcer didn't let his mind wander much longer.

 

“And now our final act! Let's end your night on a mellow note, with the lyrical stylings of Rhett McLaughlin!”

 

He jumped. Sure enough, the imposing figure strutted out from upstage, wearing all black and carrying a simple acoustic guitar. The first thing he did was catch Link's eye, and wink.

 

He suddenly had tunnel vision, and all the people in the audience, with their cheers and glittery jewelry, disappeared into a shiny haze, leaving just the two of them, together.

 

“How you all doing tonight ladies and gentlemen?” he whispered into the mic, his radio-host voice as smooth as butter and as deep as the ocean. Link had heard him speak before, but never like that.

 

The audience responded with enthusiastic hollers.

 

“Sound like you’re doing  _ real  _ good. You mind if I play you a song?”

 

Link joined in with the cheers this time.

 

“Alright then. This one goes out to all the lovers out there.”

 

The first chord, as simple as it was, made his chest swell and his head grow warm. It was a beautiful song, either an original or one Link had never heard before, with a smooth country twang.

 

_ I know you knew me when I was bolder, _

_ And you could see who I wanted to be, _

_ And if we’re still here when we’re older, _

_ Will you be loving what’s left of me? _

 

His voice carried the qualities of some of the greats, but it had a uniqueness to it that Link struggled to describe. He was trying not to admit it to himself, but that voice was pulling past the point of a crush, and he was falling hard. He had never, in his life, felt the way he was feeling now, as if all the things he had done throughout his entire life had lead him right to that point. 

 

He knew so little about him, just that he was tall, and could sing, and that he was an engineer. Then again, he also knew he like chai tea, and was probably partial to country music. He was quick to smile and easy to amuse, and he was extremely competitive, at least when it came to pool. In retrospect, Link felt like he knew a great deal about this man, despite never saying a single direct word to him. He could only imagine what he would know when then began talking.

 

_ When. _

 

_ Is there a sign, or a something, from on high? _

_ Are our paths always destined to meet? _

_ The stars don’t align, but they do try, _

_ I hope this love doesn’t taste bittersweet. _

 

Throughout the song his eyes had been closed in concentration, but it was Link, and only Link, he was looking at when he opened them again, and they did not break the gaze as the audience stood up and clapped ferociously.

 

_ Was that about me? _

 

_ Only if you want it to be. _

 

Rhett eventually stood up and raised his arms up to the audience in thanks, and Link joined in on the ovation. The announcer came on when the energy died down, although Link was feeling that the energy inside him would never turn off.

 

The announcer: “Hope you enjoyed the show, and we hope to see you here again. Feel free to stay and buy another round at the bar, enjoying the musical stylings of our house band. For the rest of you, our acts will be waiting to shake your hands and take pictures as you exit. Thank you for joining us tonight.”

 

Link leapt from his seat, grateful that nobody else seemed to be in such a hurry to meet the acts. Would this be the moment they said something to each other? He was not ready to break just yet, but he would be more than grateful if Rhett had grown weak.

 

He shook the hands of an acrobat and scratched the ears of a few jumpy pooches, inching his way along the acts until…

 

He caught his eye, but another patron still had him in the grips of a conversation.

 

“That song was not one I've heard,” the man commented, shaking his hand a bit outrageously. “Who sings that?”

 

“I sing that. I wrote it.” Rhett twisted a corner of his face. 

 

“That's impressive. Well I can't wait to see you on the billboards one day kid.”

 

After a clap on the shoulder, the other man left. Link thought there was something deliberately patronizing about it. Rhett was not only far from being a kid-- a few crows feet were hanging around his eyes-- and he had at least a full foot of height on the man. Link took his spot in front, hoping his expression showed the right level of commiseration. He knew all too well about wanting to be taken seriously in a trade like this. He called the comedy he did on the side his “hobby,” but only because he was too afraid of the reaction he would get if people knew how serious he was about it.

 

Rhett held out his hand for a shake, his stance upright and professional but his eyes burning and his smile biting. Link grabbed it, a chill running up his spine, and gave it a curt shake before releasing. It was the first time they had touched, and he was worried more than two seconds could break him. 

 

“Great job tonight!” A woman passed them and waved.

 

“Thanks! Have a great night!” Rhett waved back. It was not helpful for Link to hear his voice so close and informal, as if they could have easily been having a conversation with the other.

 

Link pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tapped the screen with his fingernail. Rhett squinted.

 

Link pointed to the phone, and then to the pocket on Rhett's pants. His eyes widened in understanding, and he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

 

Link did not put his number in the phone. He opened up the notes and added his own, leaving it open as he handed it back.

 

_ 7pm. Next Saturday. Q’s. _

 

Rhett read it over a few times before looking up and nodded in confirmation. There was another person waiting to meet him, so the two only lingered for a second longer, the air around them hot. It was Link that broke the gaze, the promise of next Saturday pulling him along like a willing fish on a line.

>   
>    
> 


	5. Meant to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was where my draft ended. If you want more, let me know!

“What are you going to wear?”

 

Link jolted, having just been in a deep and decidedly incoherent daydream that involved a pool cue sword fight.

 

“What?” 

 

“Tonight!” Mirriam shook her head and made eyes with Greg, who had once again peaked over. “On your date!”

 

“Oh,” he mumbled. He didn't argue when they called it a date. Even if it turned out to not be that, it was what he wanted it to be, so he might as well roll with the verbage. “I hadn't really thought about it.”

 

That wasn't quite true, in fact it was an outright lie. He tried hard to come off as aloof and easy-going with the other engineers, but the truth was he was the kind of guy to spend an hour trying to find the most impressive set of clothes for a situation, and spend a good portion of the night wondering if he’d made the right choice. 

 

“Do you think you're going to talk?” Mirriam asked, bending the manila folder she was holding. 

 

“That's what I  _ want _ to happen, but I want it to be him to crack first. I kind of feel like I can charm him into it.”

 

“You should try to get him drunk,” Greg contributed.

 

Link frowned. “That's seems a bit like a dirty play. I think I'd feel icky inside.”

 

“You get drunk too buddy,” Greg explained, “but just  _ less  _ drunk.”

 

Link opened his mouth to remind his friend that it took very little to make him drunk, but he was interrupted by a sharp voice.

 

“Are you guys going to gossip all day or are you going to get to work?” 

 

Their manager, a willowy woman with strict curls and an even stricter attitude, had an uncanny way of telling when they were slacking off.

 

“We're going to gossip Helen!” Link shouted. She smiled at this, but the look in her eyes made her command clear. He gave a thumbs up, and the other two subtly dispersed. 

 

After the moment passed, Link mumbled to Greg though the cubicle wall, “I don't know how much more of this I can take.” 

 

“Oh come off it. He'll talk to you eventually.”

 

“That's not what I'm talking about.” He absentmindedly wiggled the Han Solo bobblehead on his desk. “I'm talking about this job.”

 

“What's wrong with this job?”

 

He scanned the assignments cluttering his desk; bland challenges that tapped far too heavily on his left brain, the side he didn't care to use. The truth was, nothing was wrong with this job; he was good enough at it, and he made a decent paycheck. Yet it was the quiet dull stretches of work, the ones where he let his mind run amok, that he found himself looking forward to the most. It was then he could fantasize about all the creative things he wanted to do, if only he had the time.

 

“Forget it,” he murmured. “It's just been a long week.”

 

***

  
  


Mirriam offered to drive him to the bar that night, and pick him up when he was done. She claimed she was very concerned about getting him home safely, but he knew she was mostly excited to see how the night would end, and possible see the stranger, who at this point was more cryptid than man.

 

“Call me when you're done. If you don't call me I'll be here by midnight 'kay?”

 

He nodded.

 

“You okay? You haven't said more than three words and I usually can't get you to shut up.”

 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the car mirror. His hair was swept up in the upward hairstyle of a much younger man, but it was peppered with distinct sprigs of grey. He thought he still had an attractive, youthful energy about him, but what if that didn't matter, in the end?

 

“I'm just… what if we talk and we don't actually get along?”

 

“You've get along with  _ everybody  _ Link.”

 

“I know but this is… different. I really want to do more than just  _ get along _ with him. I want this to feel important. I've never felt this way about another person before. What if...What if this is my last chance?”

 

Mirriam seemed a bit surprised by that, and he understood why. He was a good-looking man, and everyone said he was funny and enjoyable to be around, but when it came to love, nothing really worked out the way he wanted. If someone showed interest, he shied away, and if he found someone attractive, he would convince himself it would never work out. It was as if all his life he was waiting for something else, something he knew was waiting for him too.

 

And if that something wasn't Rhett, than there was nothing else it could be.

 

“It won't be.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “But that might not matter, because I have a feeling this is going to work out. It feels kind of cosmic doesn't it?”

 

He smiled. “Yeah. Cosmic.”

 

Mirriam had tried her best but it was not enough to quell his nerves completely. As he walked in, he had to pay special attention to his breathing. He got a table in the corner, lit by an old and dusty orange lamp. No one seemed to frequent this table, since most of the others were full, but Link liked it that way. The table was scuffed from years of heavy use, but he thought it gave it a certain character that was impossible to describe.

 

He ordered a screwdriver and set up the first shot. It was only just seven, so he didn't expect Rhett for a little while. He passed the time by walking in circles around the table, watching the cast of patrons slowly grow more intoxicated. Sometimes it was nice just to people watch.

 

He was halfway through his drink when a finger tapped on his shoulder. 

 

Rhett was a pure hazy gold in the imperfect light. He was wearing deep black pants and a sweatshirt that look as soft and as blue as the sky. The clock on the wall, which had to have been made in the nineties, ticked at least half the speed. He could not remember ever seeing someone that could smile with their whole face.

 

“Hey,” they said in indisputable unison. 

 

But it was definitely Rhett that threw his head back and shouted, “Dammit!”

 

Link wheezed out a laugh. “I...I didn't mean to do that.”

 

“Me neither. You took me by surprise!”

 

“So did you!”

 

“What?!” Link put his fingers on his temple. “How did  _ I  _ surprise  _ you _ ?  _ You  _ came up to _ me! _ ”

 

And for at least thirty seconds, they did nothing but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

 

“You just…you look...you look nice... I guess I just forgot…” Rhett tried to say between laughs. He put his hands over his eyes. “I guess neither of us win.”

 

“Win what?”

 

And that did nothing but cause them to laugh even harder. It was like the best inside joke Link had ever been a part of.

 

“All my plans to get you to crack, out the window.” Rhett fluttered his hand into the air into the mime of a butterfly. “My whole life leading up to this moment, destroyed in an instant.”

 

“Your whole life? Isn't that a bit dramatic?”

 

“I live to be dramatic. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that.”

 

Link smiled gently, and time still did not speed up for the two of them. He felt like a kid who had been staring a large present under the tree, wondering for months what could be inside, only to finally find out it was exactly what he had wanted.

 

“Can I order you a drink?”

 

Rhett grinned. “Thought you'd never ask.”

 


	6. Let Me Show You Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I wrote another chapter! Tell me what you think!

Link kicked Rhett’s ass at pool for the first game, and even though he was a good sport about it, Link let him win on the next one.

 

“Whoo whoo WHOO!” Rhett hollered, throwing his cue on the ground and high fiving the sky. Link smiled softly.

 

The odd thing was, once the two had broken the seal, and were able to speak, neither of them experienced even a moment of quiet; there was always something to talk about, always somewhere for the conversation to go. None of it crossed the border into boring, and even things that may have been boring in another conversation had a new exciting zeal with Rhett. The air seemed to be on fire around them.

 

Throughout the night he learned about who Rhett was, and all the surprising things they had in common. In a weird way, it was like they were always on the verge of crossing paths. Rhett's dad had worked at Campbell University when Rhett was young, the campus only two miles from Link's childhood home. Unfortunately he got a better job offer in California, a few months before the two would have started first grade. It was such a small town, they would have undoubtedly been in the same class.

 

“You got such a twang in your voice,” Rhett commented, twirling his cue skillfully. “I'm not surprised you're a country boy.”

 

Link finished his drink. He hadn't had much, but a distinct warmth had filled his whole body. It might have been something other than the alcohol.

 

“You got a bit of a twang yourself.”

 

“Oh yeah. My family is all from Georgia, so I got it from them. You should here how  _ they _ sound.” 

 

“That's makes you a Georgia peach.” Link grinned wryly, buffing his cue.

 

“Is that why you're so sweet on me?”

 

Link felt a blush coming on, and his companion must have seen it, because he chuckled in his low honey way. Spending time with him was like basking in the sun on a hot summer day, sweet iced tea on the table. 

 

“I've always liked peaches.”

 

Rhett raised an eyebrow and didn't say anything for a minute. It was the longest stretch of quiet they had experienced since they had spoken first, but it was an easy quiet, full of untapped energy and unsaid things.

 

They started a third game but forgot about it halfway through, and leaned on the table, sipping their drinks and catching up on the last forty years. They had both been in bands in high school, and they had both been the lead singer, but both had fizzled out before they barely started. They had both gone to engineering school, despite wanting to initially do something else.

 

“My dad wouldn't pay if I didn't do it.” Rhett stirred his rum and coke absentmindedly. “Until I got the gig at the Brickyard I was spending my time at work trying to find any other job I could.” His perpetual grin fell flat for a moment. It was that look Link found so familiar, the one he was making while having that conversation with Greg. A hopeful but frustrating desire for a new life, a better life. “I was pretty miserable.”

 

“I know how you feel. Sometimes life just feels like you’re surviving until you can have time to do what really makes you happy.”

 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Rhett pulled his phone out of his pocket, which was protected by what looked like a wooden case. His hand were knobbly and large, his fingernails clean but cut a little poorly. “Its ten already… you want to go somewhere else?”

 

_ Somewhere else?  _ Link thought.  _ I’ll go anywhere. _

 

“Sure, but my ride said she’d be here to pick me up at midnight, unless I call her and say otherwise. What exactly did you have in mind?”

 

Rhett put the pool balls and cues in their designated spots, and threw back the last of his drink. That glint in his eye, a sparkle of mischief and adventure that Link would find himself growing more and more familiar with had returned. “I want to show you something cool.”

 

“Do you think… I should call her?” The questioned was weighted with much more, and Link felt the back of his neck grow hot.

 

“Not yet.” Rhett softly grabbed Links elbow leading him along towards the exit. “We’ll just have to see where the night takes us.”

  
  


***

 

With too many drinks in their system and no car to drive anyway, Link wasn’t sure how they’d get to this mystery location, but Rhett just began walking a casual stride uptown on the sidewalk. The air was cool but not cold, and the lights from all the nearby businesses added a certain warmth to the inky black night. 

 

They walked along, the silence returned, but this time filled with a tense excitement. Link flinched in surprise as his tall companion placed a large, warm hand on the small of his back.

 

“Sorry!” Rhett pulled it away at Link’s reaction. “That not okay?”

 

“No no no it’s fine! You just scared the crap out of me.” Link pushed him playfully, and Rhett chuckled as he returned his arm.

 

“It isn’t very far, but it sure is a nice night for a walk huh?”

 

“You know what? I’ve just realized that you could easily be a murderer, and you’ve just spent the past few months stalking me to gain my trust.” Link kicked a rock and it skittered across the sidewalk.

 

“How do I know you’re not the murderer?” When they reached the rock again, Rhett took his turn to kick it. His went much further. “You kind of have that look in your eye.”

 

“Hold up.” Link halted and put a hand on Rhett’s chest. “Rhett… I think… are we  _ both  _ murderers?”

 

Rhett had such a hearty laugh that came from somewhere deep; a frequent thing that seemed to happen somewhere between courtesy and genuine happiness. The way it echoed in the quiet night, meshing with the rush of cars and the distant footsteps of other night owls, gave it a quality that Link found otherworldly.

 

“You know, in some universe, we  _ are  _ both murderers. You ever think of that? If something is technically possible, there’s a universe for it.”

 

“You subscribe to that theory huh?” It was Link’s turn to kick the rock, but he misjudged the angled, and it ended up in the middle of the street.

 

“Oh yeah buddy, I definitely do. Sometimes when I’m stressed, I think about all the other Rhett’s, and how some have it worse. In one universe, you’re the only one who is a murderer, and that Rhett is dead.” He ran a finger across his throat and made a choking noise.

 

“Some of the other yous have it better though don’t they?”

 

“Sure, I guess. There’s a universe where you and I are super famous, and our faces are on that billboard up there.” He pointed at an ad for a dental office, lit with blue and white lights. “There’s one where we’ve been best friends for over thirty years.” 

 

“There’s one where we all ride segways everywhere, and no one walks,” Link contributed, much to his date’s chagrin.

 

“And another, where I live on a beautiful island on the beach, doing nothing but reading and crabbing every day.”   
  


“Am I in that one?”

 

“Sure, you can wash up on the island at some point.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Rhett moved his arm further, so it was now completely around Link’s waist. “Anyway, you’re missing the point. Those places are nice to think about, fun to imagine, but the fact that I’m not there doesn’t bring me down, and it shouldn't bring you down either. The future is still ahead, so for all I know this is the best universe of them all.”

 

He stopped their trek for a brief moment, and looked upwards at the streetlight shining above them.

 

“Look up. What do you see?”

 

Link looked, not up at the light, but at his companion, whose face was now washed in a meadowy green glow.

 

“It’s… green.”

 

Rhett nodded. “Strange isn’t it? I don’t why it is, but it is.”

 

Link’s heart was singing, a tune so gorgeous and loud he wondered if maybe it wasn’t just his imagination. Rhett was like the final piece of something. The last part of the puzzle. The large golden key that unlocked the exit to the dungeon. 

 

He pulled his arm off of his waist, so he could wrap their hands together. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

 

Rhett’s confidence almost faltered at the action, so simple but so intimate. “This is just one thing. There’s a lot more I want to show you, Link.”

 

It was the sound of his own name on the other man’s lips that broke him, and Link leaned in, almost unbearably slow, moving his free hand to the soft nape of the other man’s neck, which was hot to the touch. Rhett’s eyelids fluttered, and then closed, and they mirrored each other in the pale green light. Their lips met, and all the white noise around them dissolved to silence, all the heat rising to meet where they touched. Everything Link had worried about or feared was lost into the ether, never to return the same way again. He was a person who had his breath held his entire life, and this was his first time above the surface. 

 

The kiss was quick but no less sweet, and Rhett broke away with his free hand cupping the other man's cheek, and a look that could weaken even a stronger man than Link.

 

“I think you might be on to something,” whispered Link.

 

Rhett exhaled like he had run a mile. “What do you mean?”

 

“Maybe this is the best universe of all.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
